Routine
by La Mademoiselle
Summary: Denmark always fouled up Norway's routine.  DenmarkFem!Norway, Fluff


Back with a new story that took my a week to write.

**Title:** Routine  
**Rating:** K+  
**Warnings:** Language, Genderbended nation, Fluff  
**Characters:** Norway "Halldora" and Denmark "Mathias"  
**Summary:** Denmark always seemed to foul up Norway's daily routine.

Hetalia is not owned by me

* * *

Halldora enjoyed her quiet lifestyle. Her favorite days were spent getting up early, drinking a cup of coffee while standing next to the window and watching the forest just beyond begin to wake, on the occasional warm morning, she'd stand on the back deck, watching the sun rise over the tops of the trees. Then she'd work for a while, eat lunch, finish her work, and return home. She'd read for a while, maybe watch television. Then she'd spend the evenings playing her violin. Then she'd go to bed and the whole cycle would repeat itself. Occasionally, she left to visit neighbors, friends, attend a world conference. Sometimes her brother or Sweden would come over and visit, but normally she lived life routinely.

The only variable in her life that seemed to throw off that routine (derail it with as much noise and chaos possible was more like it) was Denmark. Her self-proclaimed "best friend", the Dane would show up usually at least once a week, maybe every day if he felt so inclined, banging on her door in the mornings, whining and begging to be let in because she'd changed the locks on the house again and his key didn't work.

Once inside, he usually proceeded to drive her insane with his nonstop chattering, drinking all her coffee, shattering her peace and quiet. She rarely got any work done, and reading was out of the question since he usually turned on some sports game or something equally as noisy. There was one speck of quiet though, when she began to play, letting the bow draw across the strings and let the sweet-sounding music fill the house. The Dane sat, watching her in awe, much like a child watching a magician pull a rabbit out of his hat. He never asked what she was playing, he just sat and listened. Once she even admitted (after having one too many shots of akevit) to Finland and Sweden that she enjoyed playing for him. It was like she'd cast one of her spells over him. However, as all spells did after time, it broke, and he became an annoying chatterbox again until she'd dumped him on her front doorstep and stomped upstairs to bed.

What the Norwegian didn't know was that all the times Denmark came to visit her, he had something to say; something he usually forgot within five minutes of being let in and given coffee. For years he'd been trying to work up the courage to tell her that he loved her, that he wanted to be with her and be part of that routine she loved so much. He always daydreamed about watching the sunrise with her as they drank their morning coffee, pulling her into his lap while they read or watched a movie together, he wanted to listen to her play every evening. What he wanted more than anything though was to kiss her, hold her, and see her smile at him like he was the only thing that mattered at that moment in time.

Finally, _finally_, Mathias had made up his mind and worked up the courage to confess. He'd spent the whole morning rehearsing lines he knew he'd forget the moment he saw her face. He made the familiar journey to her home just outside of Oslo, determined not to forget his purpose in going out there (again). It was a reasonably warm day, a nice breeze was blowing, and so she had her windows open. The Dane was uncharacteristically quiet as he crept up to the house, he wanted to surprise her.

"I swear to you, Tino, once more, if he barges in once more, I'm going to kill him," that was Norway's voice, even and controlled as always, but Denmark knew better, his Hallie was upset with someone. But who? He crept closer, ducking under the window sill to get a better vantage point. "I'm sick and tired of it. Always begging to be let in like an overgrown puppy who can speak. It's always 'Oh Norge! Please let me in! It's so cold!'"

"But surely it's not so bad?" the Finn inquired.

"No, it's always bad, he comes into my house, he eats my food, drinks my coffee, and makes so much noise I don't have time to work or relax! It's pathetic, he's so starved for attention, he has to bother me at least once a week." Denmark frowned it sounded like she was talking about him… "I hate him. I hate his stupid potatomouth, I hate his stupid too-big smiles, I hate the sound of his voice, I hate seeing him on my front stoop all the time. I don't want anything to do with him. Damned, annoying, noisy Dane."

Mathias could feel his heart break, Hallie, his Norge, hated him that much? Why? All his hopes, everything he'd put into preparing for the moment when he finally confessed went out the window as he struggled to come to grips with the new information. God damn it… it hurt like she'd taken his beloved battle axe and chopped him open. He scrambled out of there, hoping to whatever he could that neither the Norwegian nor the Finn had heard him.

* * *

Something was different. Halldora could tell. Like when the fish was off or the milk was spoiled, it left a sour aftertaste in her mouth. She was at a loss to figure it out though. Every day, she went through her normal routine, never faltering once. But… what was wrong? There was a dull ache in her chest, like something was missing. She had no idea what it was that could possibly be missing, but she wanted it back, if only to make her feel complete again.

It had been three months since she'd spoken to Finland about Denmark. Four months since she'd seen the man outside of official gatherings. Where was he? He'd made a point of avoiding her and when she had managed to glimpse him, he hadn't looked good. His hair had lost its shine and bounce, he was looking pale and underfed, his cheerful smile and happy personality had taken a holiday it seemed. Something was very wrong with him, and, she hated to admit it, she was sick with worry for the loud idiot. It was then that she realized what was different: Denmark hadn't been to her house. Not once. At first she was glad for the change, nothing to ruin her routine.

More and more she felt her concentration slipping. Without the Dane's presence in her life, she had nothing but that routine she'd built for herself. That routine she now hated so much. Where was Denmark and why wasn't he interrupting it?

Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore, and if Denmark wasn't coming to her, she was going to go to him. She would get to the bottom of the mystery of why Denmark was acting so strangely, only to quell that strange ache in her chest and make sure the idiot hadn't accidentally killed himself.

She found herself standing in front of his vibrant blue house, clutching her violin case and an overnight bag. Well… here went nothing… the Norwegian reached out and knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer. She waited five minutes, ten minutes, after fifteen minutes, she felt in her pocket for the spare key he'd given her when she agreed to housesit for him. Thank God she'd forgotten to return it. "Danmark?" she called into the dark house, shutting the door behind her. Maybe he was out? No matter, she'd just wait for him.

Maybe she should search the house for him first. The Norwegian left her things on the couch and began to explore, turning on lights as she went. "Danmark? Where are you?" God damn it, he'd better be here and he'd better respond because she didn't start shouting for anyone.

Denmark curled up even further under the covers, trying to block out that voice calling him, especially when it started sounding scared. She hated him, so why was she here? To laugh at him? It got hard to ignore when she started twisting the knob to his door. He was glad he'd locked the door. "Danmark… please…" he forced himself to remain quiet. His heart ached at the sound of her voice, but he had to remember… she hated him, wanted nothing to do with him.

So why was she here? Eventually, she stopped knocking and calling for him. He half-hoped she'd given up and decided to go home. Unfortunately, she returned only moments later. He could tell from the high-pitched violin note she played. She launched into a lively, cheerful tune that was impossible not to smile at. The happiness and excitement in the notes were contagious and the Dane felt the corners of his mouth twitching upwards despite himself. Eventually, the little song came to an end. "Danmark… will you open the door now…?" she asked, finally breaking the silence. He'd never heard her sound so sweet and gentle before, so before even he'd realized it, he'd crossed the room, opened the door, and flung his arms around the small Norwegian. "Danmark…?"

He smelled like stale beer and tears, she thought, frozen with shock when he'd hugged her so suddenly. There was something wrong with him, if the way he was practically sobbing her name over and over was any indication. How to deal with it? She'd never been good at comforting others except for Iceland, but he was her brother. Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around the big Nordic's shaking frame, patting him gently. "Norge…" he choked out, pushing back to study her face before pulling her close to cover her lips with his.

His mouth moved against hers while she just stood still. This was getting him nowhere… Mathias pulled away, feeling disappointed. Moments later, she'd grabbed his shirt and was kissing him for all she was worth. He smiled a little, returning the kiss as he pulled her closer. They pulled apart for air.

Then she slapped him.

"Ow! What was that for?" he yelped putting a hand to his stinging cheek.

"You idiot, do you have any idea how worried I was about you?" she huffed, hands on her hips.

"Aww… you were worried about me?" he grinned, "That's so sweet, Norge!" Then he thought of why she'd been worried, and what had led him to hole himself up for the past few months. "Wait… I thought you hated me…" his smile faded and she was worried that he was going to start crying again. "You said you didn't want anything to do with me…" Her eyes widened. He'd heard her say all that? How? He'd been nowhere near her house when she and Tino had been talking. Had he heard…?

"How did you…?" normally, he would have grinned and cooed at her stunned expression.

"I had come over that day to tell you something…" there he went, he was crying again. Halldora reached up, brushing away the tears. "Then I heard you and Tino talking… after you said you didn't want anything to do with me, I left." So he hadn't heard… she didn't know whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Danmark, you are an idiot," he flinched a bit, he figured this was coming sooner or later. "For one thing, you trampled the tulips Netherlands gave me. For another, you left before hearing the end of the conversation." She sighed, "You drive me insane and I _should_ hate you… but I don't." Was that a blush he was seeing? Aww… how adorable… he poked her cheek gently and she swatted his hand away. "Be serious please."

"But Noooorge, how am I supposed to be serious if you look so cute?" he whined, cuddling her gently.

"If I didn't love you…" she grumbled.

"Wait… what…?" oh hell. She felt her cheeks growing warm. "Norge, you…?" he blinked for a minute, looking like he was processing her words. Then he grinned even wider than she'd ever seen him. "You love me!" she squeaked as he pulled her into an impossibly tight hug.

"Annoying idiot… that hurts…" she grumbled. He almost missed it, he was too caught up in that soaring feeling in his heart. Oh wait… he loosened his grip.

"I love you too, Norge," he nuzzled her, planting a kiss on her cheek.

* * *

"Play that song again!" Mathias requested, sitting on the couch, watching her fit the bow to the strings. "The one you played earlier!" The Norwegian nodded, playing the song he requested, watching him beam at her. "What's it called?" he asked once she was finished.

"It doesn't have a name yet… I made it up one day when I was improvising," she told him. "I was thinking about a noisy, loud-mouthed nation at the time…"

"America?"

He watched her sigh, "Nei, Idiot. You. America's not quite that cheerful and happy all the time." Mathias stood up and pulled her into his arms, grinning wider than ever.

"Hallie, you made up a song for me!"

"Mathias, watch the violin."

"You used my name!"

"Ja, I did," he watched her blush again and leaned in to kiss her, plucking the violin and bow out of her hands and setting them on the table. She was smiling at him when he looked back at her. The Dane blushed, feeling his heart race to see her.

"You know, now that we're together, I'm going to be seeing you a lot more," he purred. Well… her routine was shot to hell… she found herself not caring about that so much.

"You'd better."

"Count on it!"


End file.
